Maybe, May.

“Well, let it pass, he thought; April is over, April is over. There are all kinds of love in the world, but never the same love twice.”

We are already a week into May, and I am shell shocked and amazed and terrified because of it.

April brought the biggest heartbreak I have ever felt. I learned that I could actually cry for three straight days. I managed to not fail my first law test, and just pass my first English essay.  My best friend is moving 13,330 km away from me. She lives 20 km away from me now, and I last saw her at the beginning of April. My head is heavy and my body just aches. Things have been a lot.

 

wo.jpg

how perfectly angsty of me

The freshman fifteen has very quickly turned into the freshman “I am bad at spending money efficiently and also am constantly buying other people food so now I barely recognise my body”. Yes. I did join a gym, though. I joined an on-campus gym that’s going to have fourteen treadmills and hot showers. It’s opening in July, but I am very very excited. I’m also very lucky and #blessed to be able to have that to look forward to.
booo

It’s concerning that many teenagers drink to forget. 18 years is so little time in the grand scheme of things, but when it’s all you know, it’s the longest time. Why would you want to forget by means of ethanol based products?  Why not? Why am I thinking about this?

My headphones have been stolen. Again. Along with my cellphone charger. What is going on with me and losing stuff?

I went for a good two weeks without taking my medication because I was too anxious/busy to go pick it up at the pharmacy. I felt like an idiot. I’m doing better now, though. I’ve got my Wellbutrin and a big headache.

tumblr_lsg80xOpVm1qg20zj

One of my favourite people on the internet – Michelle from Piece of Caustic – wrote: “I think too much of my life has consisted of me eyeing the gap between me and others and wondering what to do with it.” I wish I would stop wondering. I wish I could hit myself in the face enough times for me to realise that I need to get my shit together and stop spending money like I have it. I need to realise that I can’t fill that gap with the utter bullshit my drunk heart spouts. It doesn’t tell the truth. It tells lies and hurts me, and everyone around. I need to find out what to do with that gap, or to get in it.

time-overwhelmed

Will May be the month I find out what the hell is going on? Probably not. I’m writing my first set of uni exams this month, and coming to terms with the fact that I’m going to be in Johannesburg for the next three years of my life. Being grounded is hard when you just want to go.

Maybe I’ll make sense of myself a little bit more this month.

Maybe May.

love and light
shalom xo


featured image from paper-leaf.com

It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Deadlines | Re: College Apps

My final exams are on their last legs. I have three more papers, two of which are on the same day (yes, it’s alright History & Drama, you can kill me, I don’t mind), and I’m very, very excited to have it all over with.

Mostly because I need more time. For school.

I’m applying to several universities (colleges?) in both the USA and Canada, and most of my deadlines are disturbingly close to December 10th – the day one of my girls (who are we kidding) leaves for Viet-fricken-nam. There is a lot to be done in the way of essays, “why and how would your admission to XYZ University benefit the University and the world?” type questions, paying CRAZY fees just to send through a form, and hoping to all that is holy that I didn’t screw up too badly in these finals so that I can at least  have some sort of shot.

In other December news: It’s almost Christmas?

I was talking to my mom about how this year, Christmas doesn’t feel anything like it. The supermarkets started decorating late, no Christmas craft pop-up stores have opened up as of yet, and honestly, nobody is excited. My mom gave me a simple answer: “it’s because there’s no money this year.”Makes sense.

In any case, the Christmas feeling is near non-existent; the pressure of deadlines is mounting, and I think I’m going to an 18th birthday party tonight. Maybe. (Update: I’m going.)

To all of the kids completing college apps as well, good luck. May we all finish in time, write bomb ass essays, and be accepted to our RD schools with promising financial aid packages. May we not break out into hives every time we think about out upcoming student loans and the fact that we’ll all be broke until we’re 35.

love and light,
shalom


Also; thanks for the new update, WordPress! I love it.

Exactly Sixteen Tireds

I’ve been so tired.

 

(if you liked the nebula thing that was the featured image, you can make your own here! super calming and super great.)

I try sometimes, but most times I can’t even be bothered. I wake up, I take a shower, I put on my (new and sassy) glasses, I go to school, my file falls off the dashboard on the way there, I get sad because I think of friends who aren’t friends anymore, I plaster on a smile, say ‘darling’ far too many times, take ‘too much’ (enough + prescribed) medication, have genuine laughs with lovely people, kiss said people too much, go to class, get out of class, give hugs, hope to go home, don’t go home, eat too much…

Look, it’s not an interesting schedule, but it’s mine. And at it’s tiring.

I’ve decided that if my tiredness could be quantified, it’d be done in tireds. And it’d be meticulously calculated by adding the years that I’ve been alive to the number of hours I’d ideally spend listening to good music and not crying/crying (dependent on the day), and then subtracted by the amount of time I’m doing school related things.

16+12-12
=16 tireds

I’m so tired, because with four tests a week and a bajillion things to do and a birthday in four months (OH MY ASDGSFSDG PANIC!WITHOUT THE DISCO) and the dangerous thoughts coming back and fricken’ prom in five months (actually, I don’t think I care about this?), I don’t know how to be less tired.

It’s no surprise that I’ve been reduced (?) to my truest form: a teary eyed sixteen year old girl, eating shortbread and avoiding reading because “Gatsby was supposed to be FUN not a fricken’ chore”.

I have no idea what this is.

I have no idea what I am.

The existential crisis has been rather intense, as of late.

love and light
?

On Why University Students Know More Than They Think They Know

HANDS UP FOR THE LONGEST TITLE EVER
(alternately titled: it doesn’t matter)

Today (tonight?) I stopped by my old school.

I’m not entirely certain that stopped by is the correct term, seeing that I was there for roughly five hours. In any case, I came to a couple of realisations, conclusions and utter WHAT-THE-HECKLING-tions today. Allow me to fill you in, friends.

1. People are more viscious than you think they can be.

Granted, we all love a skandal, but the amount of shade-throwing and utter hate that goes on in high schools is fairly ridiculous. Is there a reason for this? Possibly. Am I aware of it? [insert obviously not meme]

2. There are so many people in the world to love.

Ugh. I feel like a sappy, and hungry (but mostly hungry) wreck. Most of the people I saw tonight -even the almost accidental run in with some twins- made my metaphorical teenage girl heart swell. Sometimes, it was a swell of sadness. The most of it was an “I’M SO FREAKING EXCITED TO SEE YOU AND YOUR LOVELINESS” swell. In any case, my heart is so full, but there are still so many people to see. Hence, title of paragraph,

3. University students are quite flippen’ rad.

I had the pleasure (PLEASURE LET ME TELL YOU!) of sitting in front of four students in second year, all studying accounting majors. They were the greatest. Apart from chats about the Sims with Kyra, Sim murder wth Kyra and Chen, rapid fire talk with Bradley and an utterly, utterly beautiful Daniella, they made me fully (mostly) grasp something that’d been swimming around in my brain for a while:

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if you had a full colours blazer in high school. It doesn’t matter if you were the nerdiest of nerds and landed up studying accounting, because you’re freaking great at it. It doesn’t matter if you hated high school. You’ll still love  the annual crappy-but-exceptionally-talent-filled showcase. You’ll come every year that you can. It doesn’t matter if someone told you you weren’t cool in high school because you were a chess champion. Know why? YOU ARE STILL A CHESS CHAMPION. Nothing of that sort matters because the right people and energy really make the sun (moon) (artificial light that’s also beautiful) shine out of your face, and in this case, you both look and are lovely.

 

From left: Chen(Lillian), Kyra, Daniella, Bradley. Also known as "the cool uni kids I've dubbed my cool friends without asking".

From left:
Chen(Lillian), Kyra, Daniella, Bradley.
Also known as “the cool uni kids I’ve dubbed my cool friends without asking”.

Granted, being relatively ambushed by an aspiring teenage blogger who had too much coffee with her medication this morning is something that should matter. Tonight, however, it was all marvellous and wonderful and everything good I could have hoped for.

I have masses of History homework. Hell, I have masses of all homework, and it’s 00:32.It’s already Friday. Intentions to complete said homework exists. Making these intentions into actions into reality? Debatable.

Have a beautiful Friday, darlings.
shalom

Matric: senior year, grade twelve, hell.

The third day of matric and I’m already exhausted.

For those of you reading from a place that isn’t South Africa, matric is the last year of high school in South Africa – grade 12.It’s the year before everyone goes off to university/home/travelling / who the frick knows. It’s the seemingly shiny senior year and it’s full of expectaitons. I don’t think I like it.

Scratch that, I most definitely don’t like it. I’ve only been back at school for three days and I want to swear at everything. EVERYTHING. It’s as if a curse word generator has been planted in my brain was set to begin work on January 14th, 2015.  I’m overwhelmed, and have more crap to do that HAS TO GET DONE than I ever have before. I’m also running  out of sticky notes.

I’m too tired to write. I’m working really hard and doing my homework (!!!) and revising (read: learning for the first time because I wasn’t paying attention when it was taught) because I have a maths test on TUESDAY. I hate maths, remember?

I got moved up in my math and Afrikaans classes because I SOMEHOW managed to do acceptably well enough to be in the same class with people who get As for these subjects. Afrikaans? Understandable. Maths? *curse word generator fires up again*

The girls in my group of friends are ALL DIETING for the Matric Dance in May (Prom?) and it’s driving me nuts – I almost force-fed Mouse some chocolate –her birthday present– during a strange break.

Inappropriate puns have taken over my brain. My list of books to read has grown SO much and I’m extremely disappointed in myself because I’m already so busy, and there is no way I’m going to get to read them all when I want to.

I got yelled at for having an afro at school, because my natural hair –I REPEAT, NATURAL HAIR– doesn’t comply with school regulations because it isn’t flat. The biggest amount of — *CURSE WORDS EXTRAVAGANZA*

There is not enough time. Barely a week in, and bam- burnout.

On the plus side, we are studying my favourite  novel in English (The Great Gatsby) and we did the Charleston at the end of the day to get usinto the spirit of the 20s. It was fricken’ rad.


This year may well kill me.

2015, you ridiculous, rude, burdensome, distracting, lying, hopeful, promising bastard of a year.

love and sheer, sheer exhaustion,
shalom

Scoot on ~ reunions

There’s something about seeing people that you haven’t seen in a long time.

I generally get attacked by nostalgia when I’m least expecting it, and it gets me subtweeting and drinking copious amounts of tea and eating all of the noodles in my house. I’m not extremely fond of it, but I don’t entirely regret or hate it. Simply because reliving memories can be wonderful. It can be so lovely to remember the things that once made you smile, laugh, cry and almost run naked in the street – the usual.

Anyway, today I met with my class from my old school. I’d been in that class since 2012 until June this year when I moved schools, and not much has changed. Except the dynamics. Today there was so much love, and food and chocolate milkshakes and joking. I met up with people who had survived exams, just like me (kind of, I’ve still got two to go). I took bad selfies with good looking boys (because they’re the only kind I can pull off) and I got a Christmas present from two lovely girls-one who I’ve become extremely close to this year through failed maths tests and direct messages on instagram.

I’m so glad that I went. I took matching selfies with a girl who I kind of lost touch with – remember Jess? We kind of call ourselves “lovers rekindling an old flame”. Let it be. I also took selfies with her boyfriend who was really polite this time (thank you Seth 🙂 ) and they were quite funny.

I told jokes and we all laughed, and I had a grand time. And I thought for a moment, that maybe 2014 hasn’t been so bad. Dwelling on those thoughts made me think of the bad, though, so I stopped. I think that we’ve all come a long way, from counting down to 2014 with then-boyfriends and making promises to ourselves that the universe just didn’t let us keep. Some dangerous nights and lovely days later, we find ourselves here: five Fridays from 2015.

Here are some things that made me happy about this reunion – the first, and hopefully not last I’ve been to.

This is me and Jess. She's very beautiful and intelligent and great.

This is me and Jess. She’s very beautiful and intelligent and great.

THIS IS REBECCA SHE IS THE COOLEST AND LIVES DOWN THE ROAD FROM ME AND LENT THE ENTIRE HARRY POTTER BOXSET TO ME PLUS SHE LOVES CATS

THIS IS REBECCA SHE IS THE COOLEST AND LIVES DOWN THE ROAD FROM ME AND LENT THE ENTIRE HARRY POTTER BOXSET TO ME PLUS SHE LOVES CATS

IMG-20141128-WA0038

This is Annemieke, my maths buddy. LOVE.

This is Annemieke, my maths buddy. LOVE.

Luca = attractive. Me= hfsgj

Luca = attractive.
Me= hfsgj

This is Seth and I :)

This is Seth and I 🙂

IT WAS A STACHE BASH

IT WAS A STACHE BASH

This is it. The end. Happy and eyebrowed.

This is it. The end. Happy and eyebrowed.

I’m filming for most of tomorrow! Hopefully, by Monday, there will be moving pictures of me on YouTube. Thank you for all of your continuous love and support.

Love and affection,

Shalom x

Write things and dance

I’m not writing a novel.

Yeah, I quit NaNoWriMo 5 days in. Look at me, the best teenager ever!

(jokes)

Okay, so while I really DID try to write some things, I’ve only managed to come up with a couple of nameless complex characters that DO NOT INTERACT WITH EACH OTHER. I think I should preserve them on paper, but I don’t think a novel is the right place for them as of yet.

What I am doing, though, is NaBloPoMo! It really appears that this is what I’ve been doing from the beginning, seeing that you people (INCLUDING THE SUPER COOL VIEWS FROM ROMANIA AND PAKISTAN(!!!)) probably had no clue I writing -attempting to write, rather- a novel.

I wrote a math exam today, and the world did not end! It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t GODTHATWASAWFULTHROWMEINATRASHBAG bad. Progress!

I’m writing an Afrikaans exam (additional language) and I haven’t glanced at a book in 3 days. In the words of a screwed teenage girl:

Crap.

Here’s Taylor Swift dancing to some music that she loves a lot. Be happy if you can, friend. Your cells in your body love you a lot, even when it feels like nobody else does.

Love,

Scoot X

 

Bulletproof (can this even be a title?)

My math exam is tomorrow, and the first bout of tears and panic has already occurred.

It’s a funny thing how things so little can affect one so much. I couldn’t drink my tea or eat my dinner – all because I went into a raving panic attack stemming from the lack of warm water at my house.

Sounds pathetic, right?

I know it does. Let me assure you that it feels even more pathetic to be the one experiencing it. It’s like a feeling of extreme stupidity and sadness in one go.

Today, though, I got lucky. I had a friend send me some beautiful help involving some visualisation and Emma Watson and beaches and Paris. I can’t really explain how it feels to have someone do their best to help you while they know that they don’t know exactly how you’re feeling. It’s so lovely, like they have complete comprehension without actually having it?

I’m feeling the feels, friends.

I’m going to do revision now, and while I may fail my math exam, I know that I’ll still have this to come back to. It ‘s just the future, bruh. In the words of my heroes:

The future is bulletproof, the aftermath is secondary. It’s time to do it now and do it loud: Killjoys, make some noise!

That’s all I’ve got today. I think.
Love & Gratitude,
Scoot X

The Truth About Love

Okay, in brief, here’s where I’ve been over the past 2 (?) months:

Me: *tries to get grades up* ufffffffffff

Me: *tries even harder* ufffffffffffffff

Me: *STILL CAN’T DO THE THINGS*

me: *cries softly*

Me: *CRIES LOUDLY*


Exams start in two days, and I’m really stressed out, but not more than usual. After attempting a practice test for my maths exam that I (a) felt good about and (b) PREPARED FOR, I managed to score a grand 12 per cent. Not even a little bitof an exageration: 12/100. Wonderful.

I’ve spend the last week living at my darling Mouse’s house (her name is Caitlin, and she is by no means a rodent), waking up and getting ready in 12 minutes, eating breakfast and petting three cats at a time. In addition to the fantastic all vegetarian food I was provided with, there were also those teenage girl darkness talks. About all the things. Just to clarify: niether of us was naked, no pillows ripped apart during the glorious pillow fight, and all action was PG-12L. Sorry.

On my last day there, after countless conversations about girls and boys and cute butts and fish and Teen Wolf, we spoke about love. And London. We matched up all of our friends with cities where they could possibly potentially find the love thing (Italy, Cape Town,Amsterdam, ANYWHERE) and then we spoke about ourselves.

Now, call me selfish, but everything that comes out of this girl’s mouth is GOLD (okay, maybe not everything) so I was listening intently. A part of the conversation went like this:

Me: I’m going to Indiana. But should I be? *teen girl insecurity things ugh*

Mouse: *deep in thought, nodding*

Mouse: Mmmm.

Me: I think I need to go to Europe.

Mouse:Yes.

Me: Where would  I begin? Will I even be happy? *strange noises* What if everyone hates me?

Mouse: London. Definitely London, to start. And then you can work your way around to (place I can’t remember) and (place I can’t remember) and Liverpool.

Both: LIVERPOOL.

Mouse: I feel like you’ll go to London and meet a boy, maybe, who will think you’re the most interesting creature he’s ever come across. And he’ll be the one you wrote in the book. (I wrote an imginary boy. That’s all.) It takes a specific person to love you, Scoot. And I think you’ll find that person there.


WHAT IS THE POINT?

1) I had a great time.

2) The truth about love is that it takes a specific person to love you. And sometimes, you’ll need to go somewhere to find that person. I think you’ll find that person there. Even if that person is yourself.

This has been the most clichéd blog post I have ever written, I think. But I’m trying to do this NaNoWriMo thing and write despite exams, and be open and real and I’m feeling VERY TEENAGE GIRLISH AND I’M BEING OKAY WITH IT, OKAY?

That’s all I’ve got. Thanks to Matt Black for reminding me about NaNoWriMo, even though I’m twenty-four and a bit hours late. Day one and two, all smushed into 300 words of teen girling.

All my love,

-Shalom X

Scoot On ~ why I probably SHOULD shut up

Oh hey! No,I’m kidding. But hi anyway!

So if you’ve been following this blog for a while, you’ll know that here in South Africa, it’s exam season. In three weeks or so, I’ll be writing on pieces of paper that determine how much I’m worth until I’m out of school. It sucks that the only way our intelligence at school is measured is based solely on how well we follow instructions from another person or do exactly as they say without questioning anything. School is actually really difficult, and you know, I think that the only thing I’m certain of is that

THE MITOCHONDRIA IS THE POWERHOUSE OF THE CELL

Thanks, Mrs Moloney (6th grade Natural Science teacher).

Today, while sitting with a group of girls and doing the chit-chat thing, I realised something several times : I’m in the business of saying things that shouldn’t be said. I don’t know how to phrase that any better, but I suck at timing and my facial expressions really are beyond my control.  Off the top of my head, here’s three:

  • ” I’m going to be a little late for the meeting at break…I’m doing the thing with that girl in the bathroom.”

WHAT? I just had to go to the bathroom,but that came out of my mouth instead. I wish it hadn’t because I’m almost 300% certain that my deputy headmistress was behind me.

  • History teacher:” Are you sleeping in my class? You’d better have a good reason for this.”

ME:*looks around nervously* “I’m so sorry, I just–I — THERE ARE BOYS IN MY HEAD AND I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF THEM, YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND”

I have no explanation for this. I can’t justify myself. I feared momentarily that I was going to re-enter the “I’m so random” phase, which was by far THE WORST to ever possess our generation. I don’t know, I’m still apologising to myself. And to everyone who had to witness it.

  • “I’ll chi chi your hua hua if you don’t stop”

Real talk,this human wouldn’t stop talking about their dog teddy bear thing from old/new/imaginary boyfriend. For real, it’s great to talk about things that make you happy like a teddy, but if that’s all you talk about, we’ll have a problem. I think I’ll stop here before I (a) fail physics, (b) make myself more potentially unhireable than I am, and (c) type more garbage.

embarrassment is said to build character. I sure damn hope so.

All my love,

-Scoot xx


YOUTUBE CHANNEL IN DECEMBER